Blog Bites

About Me

Welcome to Blog Bites! I love writing and reading romance of all genres which is why I've created "In the Author Spotlight". That way you and I can find out who's out there and what more they have for use to dig our claws into.
Are you an author interested in being in the "Author Spotlight"? Shoot me an email at AnnLory@gmail.com for a spot.
Currently, I'm published in contemporary and paranormal. If you'd like to read excerpts and find out what's out, or what's in store for you please visit my website at www.annlory.com.

Where to Find Me

If you want to sign up for my newsletter you can email me as well. The newsletter goes out bi-monthly and is filled with:

* free reads

* sneak peeks

* author interviews

* contests

* & more.

COMING in APRIL

Sparks fly with not only the wicked slash of flying stakes, but with the heated passion the two try to deny. It's only a matter of time before the walls tumble down and Alyssa faces the truth: not all vampires are evil. But can she put aside her hate and surrender to Damian, for all eternity?

COMING in MAY

Marrying the enemy can be the sweetest torture...

CURRENTLY AVAILABLE

Jacques is determined to protect Kelly, but his new enemy—once a friend and a teacher—is older and stronger and Jacques will risk all to ensure Kelly remains forever his.

She is the light who will save his soul from darkness.

Marisa ran away from Brandon ten years ago, but now that she's back, he's determined she's going to see things his way...

BAIT and SWITCH

nominated for best contemporary romance 2009

A Las Vegas gigolo and an uptight lawyer from New York learn there's more to life than just business when they quite literally find love while "on the job"...

Jacob's wanted Sophie for several months now and with Christmas upon them, Jacob decides he's going to make his holiday wish come true.

Although she stood several feet away from him, she noted the stranger’s fitted black T-shirt, which revealed sinewy muscle, and snug leather pants that emphasized a lean waist and long, brawny legs. His frame towered in front of her so she had to crane her neck to look up at him. His raven-black hair touched the tops of his shoulders, strands pushed behind his ears, but a single dark lock lay along his striking face. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen. His nose was long and straight as an arrow, centered between high, smooth cheekbones, and he had a wide slash for a mouth…which was curled now in a vicious grin, baring gleaming white fangs for her view. For a second, she looked into his eyes. Pitch-black orbs,
cold as death, stared back at her and attempted to seize her mind, to pull her into their swirling depths. She immediately averted her gaze.

Summoning her best malicious smile, Alyssa readied her body to strike. “Why, the pleasure is all mine.” Before her words ended, she flipped into the air, kicking and spinning at the same time—and connected across his shoulder with a wicked slash of the stake. She landed before him in a crouch.
The smell of burned flesh filled the air.

In a flash, she struck out with her weapon again, intent on ending his life, but
he brought his hands up. Without touching her, he somehow sent her body
hurtling through the air. She tried to scream, but the breath was knocked
from her body when she crashed against a dumpster and fell hard to the
ground. The stake slipped from her fingers and rolled away down the slight

incline in the pavement. Groaning at the impacts from the dumpster and
ground, Alyssa looked up to see the vampire approach her and rose warily to
her feet.

Her eyes narrowed at the trickle of blood staining his black shirt; she snarled
at him, pleased at the sight of the bubbling, searing wound she’d scored.
“You bleed just as humans do. Vampire.” She couldn’t help but taunt him,
feeling a victorious satisfaction, although her hands were now bare.

Touching his fingers to the wound, he looked at her, his eyes beginning to
glow. She moved sideways along the wall while he smiled and brought the
long digits to his lips, licking the dark liquid from their tips. She sneered in
disgust.
“I imagine yours tastes much sweeter.” His voice was a seductive murmur,

sending chills down her spine.

Enraged, Alyssa lunged toward him. Her fist shot into his jaw, whipping his
head to the side. She lashed out her foot and hit his chest, slamming his body
into the wall behind him. Before she could follow up on her surprising
success and tear him to pieces, his hand snaked out, grabbed her wrist,
twisted her body around, and yanked her to him. Her back was now pressed
against his chest, his arms wrapped around her, binding her in the iron cage
of his arms.

She fought his hold with everything she had, but he laughed. At that, Alyssa
stopped struggling, held her head high. If this were to be it, she wouldn’t go
down like a coward. Refused to. She’d make her family proud!

Lowering his head toward her, Damian whispered against her ear. “You’ve
killed too many of D’Angel’s offspring, thus, you’ve ended your own life.”
He held her tightly against him for a moment before continuing. “Did you
not know when you began this murderous spree, you would die?” He kissed
her earlobe, pulled it into his mouth with a slight suction. She trembled as
waves of warmth rushed through her at the rasp of his breath, the deep
baritone of his voice, and yet, chills raced up her spine at his softly spoken
words. “How is it you found out about vampire kind? Watch too much Buffy
and Angel?” His mouth moved below, and pure fire sizzled along her flesh
as his tongue caressed its way to her rapidly beating pulse.
Alyssa was mortified that her body reacted this way, betraying her every

instinct. Her mind screamed at him to stop, but she seemed to melt against
his hard, sinewy length.

“Your death does not bring me joy, but I must do it just the same.”

Her eyes closed and she gave a small cry; her body jerked in his embrace as
his fangs pierced her flesh. White heat seared her, then, shockingly, she
surrendered to him, despite the warnings clamoring in the back of her head.

She moaned as pleasure swept her away, drowning her in waves of foreign
sensations. His lips were unexpectedly gentle as they caressed and suckled at
her flesh. Alyssa wanted him to take her, to give her what seemed just out of
reach. The needy intensity grew in the pit of her stomach, and her breasts
tingled as though they might burst into flames at any moment. Instead, the
ache traveled south, settled between her legs, throbbing, begging for release.

CONTEST: Barbara will give away an eBook version of her most recent book with Samhain Publishing, A Forever Kind of Guy. (The second in The Braddock Brotherhood series.)Winner will be drawn from all readers who post a comment in the following week.

AL: Hi Barbara! Welcome to Blog Bites.

Barbara: Thanks for inviting me, Ann. It’s fun to be here.

AL: So, tell us what’s happening with you.

Barbara: I stay busy working as a shift supervisor at Starbucks and keeping up with family and friends. I have two grown children, a long-time husband and a black lab mix named Pepper. My daughter got married recently which was a wonderful, fun-filled event. I like to bicycle, walk the beach, and read. I’ve also begun a fledgling career as a song lyricist.

AL: Tell us about a current or upcoming release.

Barbara: I independently published a book called Scattered Moments which straddles the line between womens’ fiction and romantic suspense. Didn’t seem to fit any publisher’s guidelines, but readers love it.

AL: What other stories are you deep into?

Barbara: The third in The Braddock Brotherhood series, on which I’m currently doing editor-suggested revisions; The second in the Grinding Reality contemporary fantasy series written under my pen name, AJ Tillock. (The first one is The Forbidden Bean. They’re loosely based on my work experience for a large coffee company.) Another womens’ fiction/romance entitled mis•con•ceive, which I will probably publish independently later this year.

AL: What was the defining moment when you realized you wanted to be a writer?

Barbara: Many years ago after reading a poorly written romance novel, I threw it across the room when I finished it and declared, “I can write better than that!”

AL: Do you have a mentor or critique partner that you work with consistently?

Barbara: I have a wonderful reader who was a fan of my first Samhain book, A Month From Miami. She won my first “Be A Character In My Next Book Contest” and later we became Facebook friends. I asked her if she’d read an unpublished manuscript for me and tell me what she thought. She’s done that a couple of times. I find that readers look for different things than editors do and Tara reads A LOT and A LOT of romance. She knows what works and what doesn’t and promises if she hates something I’ve written she will tell me. So far, she hasn’t hated anything I’ve given her! My daughter also writes and she is a brutal critiquer which I need. Also, my best friend who reads quite a bit sometimes reads for me and tells me if something works. I have also asked the Novelists, Inc., critique group for a cold read and feedback on occasion. They are all wonderful, multi-published authors and a huge help. I have also benefited greatly from my long-time friendship with author Tina Wainscott who now writes as Jaime Rush.

AL: What is the most difficult part of being a writer and do you write whenever the mood strikes, or do you have a specific routine?

Barbara: The most difficult part of being a writer is 1) getting published and 2) marketing my work. As for the actual writing, I write when I can. There’s no routine. I always have multiple projects going so I often flit from one to the other when I get stalled. Writing fantasy is a particular challenge for me. I’d never written in that genre and with the second book, I have to think a lot about it before I write. I am definitely flying by the seat of my pants.

AL: It’s time to get personal! You’re snowed in for a week in the Swiss Alps. You’ve enough firewood and food to get you through the blizzard waging outside. What are three things that you would have to have with you?

Barbara: My laptop. My Kindle with several good books on it that I’m dying to read. Two to three bottles of Beringer white zin.

AL: What's your favorite music? Do you listen to that when you write?

Barbara: I don’t listen to music when I write. My favorite is Top 40/pop and classic rock which is what I grew up listening to.

AL: Sometimes people envision an author’s life as being really glamorous. I like to set them straight, so tell us what’s the most unglamorous thing you’ve done in the past week?

Barbara: Probably taking out the trash at work or digging wet coffee grounds out of a French press.

AL: What annoys you enough to be considered a pet peeve?

Barbara: When I find that dishes have been put away when they’re still wet I see red. This happens a lot at work and it drives me crazy!!

AL: Can you share some of your plans for 2012 and beyond?

Barbara: Write, write, write! I’d like to continue my relationship with Samhain and certainly hope to with a third and fourth (possibly a fifth) book in The Braddock Brotherhood series. But so much of what I write is non-genre specific, so whatever I can’t place elsewhere, I’ll independently publish and also do print versions of those books. But be patient. I am very slow!

AL: Please share a favorite quote(s) with us.

Barbara: This is something my Dad always used to say and I’ve found like many of his words of wisdom, it’s true: At any point in your life you’ll be able to count your true friends on the fingers of one hand and you probably won’t need all the fingers.

First on Hayley Christopher’s list to get her train-wreck life back on track: stay away from men. Especially the ones who cause a ripple effect of bad decisions.

Still reeling from a high-profile divorce, the college dropout and former pro cheerleader is stumbling through yet another challenge—temporary custody of her nephew, Fletcher. No one knows better than Hayley that she’s not mother material. When she opens the door to her new landlord and old flame, she wonders just how many more past mistakes she is destined to pay for.

After the death of his wife, Ray Braddock is still putting the pieces back together. Hayley—and the silent little boy at her side—both bristle with emotional barriers so high, it appears no one but him can see that together, three broken people just might make a whole family.

As she watches Fletcher respond to Ray’s patient care, Hayley’s determination to hold on to her heart begins to soften. But just when she begins to think that Ray is one opportunity she shouldn’t let slip by, Fletcher’s gang-connected father threatens to make her pay for the one good choice she ever made…

Excerpt:

Hayley Christopher swiped gloss across her lips and stared at herself in the bathroom mirror.

Why do I bother? she silently asked her reflection.

Her plan for the future dangled just out of reach like a rabbit in front of a greyhound. She wanted to race forward, shake the Florida sand off her feet and arrive in Los Angeles ready to start her life over, but something always held her back. Ten years ago it had been a man. Though she’d vowed never to sacrifice her dreams for a man again, she hadn’t counted on a little boy getting in the way of her second chance.

Just a few short months ago she’d been ready to escape Jacksonville and the life she’d once had with Trey. Her bags were packed. An airline ticket awaited her. She’d planned to step off the plane in L.A. and never look back.

Marriage to Trey derailed her plans the first time. Now she’d allowed her semi-orphaned, stepnephew Fletcher to block her path. But she hadn’t had a choice, had she? With his mother OD’ing on heroin, dying in her arms, begging her to take care of him, to protect him from his violent father, what was she supposed to say? “No, Steffie, sorry, I’ve got a new life in L.A. waiting for me”? Everyone else had turned their backs on Stef and for good reason. Hayley couldn’t. She’d made a promise to watch over Fletcher without realizing what it would mean.

The other options were to leave Fletcher with strangers, or worse, at the mercy of his father Carlos, should he ever get out of jail. She shuddered at the thought that Carlos might make good on his threats against her. That he’d hurt his own son in the process. The poor kid had been traumatized enough in his young life. While she knew she wasn’t the ideal candidate to take custody, at least Fletcher knew who she was, though they’d hardly bonded in the few months she’d had him. They probably never would.

As long as he was with her, Hayley knew Fletcher wouldn’t be mistreated and he’d be kept away from his father. With any luck at all, he’d be adopted by the kind of family Hayley herself had always dreamed of. A mother and father. Siblings. There’d be a big backyard with a swing set. Dinner on the table at six every night. Maybe even a dog.

Sure it was a dream. It hadn’t come true for her, but maybe she could make it come true for her stepsister’s son. If Carlos ever came looking for Fletcher, he’d be long gone, absorbed into the system with a new name, a new family and tightly sealed records. Somehow she’d make that happen. And afterward she’d move forward with her own plans. She and Fletcher would both be free of their pasts.

She stowed the lip gloss and mascara in her makeup case and stared at her reflection once more. What was the point in wearing makeup or making an attempt with her hair? Why did she bother putting cute workout clothes on?

“L.A. Someday. Soon,” she promised herself as she did every morning.

She sat down on the closed toilet lid to wrap the Ace bandage around her swollen ankle. Giving in to a burst of exuberance after teaching one of her aerobics classes yesterday had been a mistake. Her professional cheerleading days were several years behind her, and she was getting too old to do back flips. She should have known better.

Life as she’d known it was over, she reminded herself. Some days there seemed no point to anything.

The doorbell rang. She heard Fletcher move away from where she’d left him on the sofa watching cartoons.

“Don’t open the door, Fletch,” she called. “I’ll be right there.”

Quickly she finished wrapping her ankle, making sure the self-securing bandage would stay in place. Who could be ringing her doorbell? She knew virtually no one in tiny Perrish, Florida. Oh God, she hoped it wasn’t more bad news. Bad news had been following her for too long, showing up when she least expected it. Maybe the ringing of the doorbell heralded a change in that pattern.

She grabbed the despised crutches and maneuvered her way out of the bathroom, wincing when she bumped her injured ankle with the tip of the crutch. She’d needed the crutches for less than a day but it was long enough to know she hated them.

Four-year-old Fletcher stood to the left of the front door, his attention focused on whatever was on the other side of the slender pane of sidelight glass. Hayley moved closer to see a man hunkered on the other side making funny faces at Fletcher. She glanced down to see Fletcher’s reaction. His expression was the one he usually wore of serious concentration, but a ghost of a smile played around his lips. At least Hayley wanted to think he might be close to a smile. It’d been a long time since he had.

There was no chain on the door, so Hayley debated for a moment about whether to open the door to a strange man. It was broad daylight and he looked harmless enough. He straightened when he heard the deadbolt slide back.

They stared at each other for what was probably a split second but felt like a lifetime. Hayley felt the ripple run through her. She’d experienced the ripple effect twice in her life. Once with her ex-husband and the first time with—

“Hi, I’m Ray Braddock,” he began.

—Ray Braddock when she was fourteen. She’d been a brand new student, a freshman at Jannings High School. He and his twin brother Rick had been the hottest boys in the junior class. She’d worshiped Ray from afar, though she’d never actually met him. But every time she saw him, the ripple effect slammed her full force.

Okay, she told herself. You can do this. You are not attracted to him. The last thing you need is a man in your life. Men are bad news. Men cause pain. Men mess up your plans. The ripple effect means nothing. The ripple effect is evil.

“Hayley Christopher.” Good. That’s good. She remembered her manners. She remembered her name. Now if that excitement fluttering in the pit of her stomach would cease and desist, she’d be fine.

“I know.”

Her radar shot out a warning. “You know? What do you mean, you know? How would you know my name?”

“From the property management company. I—”

“Oh? I can’t believe they gave out my name. They have no right. Who I am and where I live is my business and no one else’s. There must be some kind of law—”

“Whoa. Slow down there. I hired the property manager. I’m the owner of the property. I live in the other unit.” He nodded toward the other half of the duplex.

“You—own—wait a minute. What?” The other half of the duplex had been vacant during the short time she’d lived there. Or so she thought.

As if sensing her distress, Fletcher moved closer to her, wedging himself between her leg and her crutch and clutching her thigh. He sent out one of his trademark, almost inaudible whimpers of inquiry. Awkwardly, she patted his shoulder. “It’s okay, sweetie.”

Ray rescued her from her confusion. “I was out of town for a while. So I hired the property manager. But I’m back. Starting next month, you can pay your rent directly to me.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“What happened to you? Do you need to sit down?” Ray gestured at the crutches and Fletcher hanging onto her. “Want me to come in for a minute?”

Hayley couldn’t take her gaze off her landlord. He’d been good looking as a teenager and he still was. But his handsome face had more character now. Tiny lines radiated from the corners of his eyes. As she recalled, he’d been leaner than his brother, and that hadn’t changed. He looked tanned and strong and capable. But he also looked sad. And a bit lost.

Maybe that’s what I look like too. It was certainly how she felt most days. Giving herself a mental shake, she tried to regroup and say something reasonably intelligent.

Inviting him into her personal space was out of the question. “No. That’s okay. I’ll make the rent checks to you from now on. Was there anything else?”

“Is everything all right with the place? Appliances? Plumbing? Air conditioning?”

“Everything works. I’m not crazy about some of the decorating choices, but it’s nothing critical.” Except the bathroom wallpaper, she added silently. It’s hideous. She’d seriously considered doing the next tenant a favor by ripping down the wallpaper in the bathroom. Bare drywall would be an improvement over the garish flowered foil.

“All right, then. Here’s my phone number.” He handed her a plain white business card on which he’d written his name and the number. “Let me know if you have any problems.”

She took the card. Her fingertips touched his. She ignored her reaction.

Not.

REMEMBER: Barbara will give away an eBook version of her most recent book with Samhain Publishing, A Forever Kind of Guy. (The second in The Braddock Brotherhood series.) Winner will be drawn from all readers who post a comment in the following week.

Regrets. We all have them. Some are just minor irritations in our day, such as a wrong shoe choice. A bad hairstyle. A decision to eat that extra large slice of chocolate when you (and more importantly your hips) didn't need it. I call them minor irritations because for the most part, they don't alter our life too drastically.

Yet, some regrets can turn into major heartaches. These are the ones that send your life spinning into a different direction. Sometimes for the better. Often for the worse. It could be a decision to change careers. Move to another city. Walk away from someone you love. All have the ability to radically alter your life and you. If they don't work out, either they can leave you broken and full of regret, or they can make you stronger.

I think most of us have experienced both types of regrets. I certainly have.

In my book, KILLER MOVES, that is the premise of the story.

Six years ago, Kara Bryant tapped into the mind of a serial killer—and nearly became his last victim. Her FBI colleague and lover, Davis Martin, put the murderer behind bars, then devastated her with his abrupt rejection. Worse, the vivid nightmares that followed her to her desert retreat have recently taken a fresh, frightening turn.

She should have foreseen that Davis would turn up. She’s just not sure her still-broken heart can take the strain.

Davis thought he’d made the right decision for everyone involved in a case that almost ended in disaster, thanks to his mistakes. But with a new string of killings that one by one is taking out the women of his past, suddenly he wonders if he let the real Death Angel get away. Kara is the only one who can help him nail the bastard for good this time—if she can forgive him.

He wasn’t expecting the woman he never stopped loving to love him back. Nor is he prepared to come face-to-face with Kara’s secret. One that raises the stakes impossibly high.

Sometimes regrets have the ability to knock us off course. And sometimes they send up in just the right direction we need to go.

Blurb:They’re a match made in the hallowed halls of Quantico. Until Death comes knocking…

Excerpt:

Kara's head throbbed with pain. Had since Ryan arrived in her life yesterday bringing unwelcome news that seem to confirm what she already knew in her heart. The Angel had returned.

The voices of the dead called out to her from their resting place in her closet where she’d tossed the photos after Ryan had left the day before. It had taken all her willpower to pick them up and put them away. Although Ryan didn’t initially say as much, Kara knew there were others. Two others to be exact. Rachel would just be his latest. But they all cried out to her, along with Rachel, the ex-wife of the man she both hated and loved. Kara had no idea how long she’d been sitting like that.

She wasn’t sure why she’d kept the folder in the first place. She should burn it before Ava got home from school, be done with it once and for all but she couldn’t bear to touch it. If she touched them, she would feel their pain. And in experiencing their pain, they would become real to her. She’d want to do something to help them. She couldn’t. She’d left that part of her life behind in DC. She was a mother now—a boutique owner. She was no longer a psychic.

As much as Kara tried to block out the voices of the dead, she tried even harder to break the link between her grandmother and herself. She couldn’t talk to Maggie about this and not fall apart. And she couldn’t fall apart for Ava’s sake. When the phone rang once more, Kara didn’t need to look at the caller ID to know it would be her grandmother. She ignored the phone and listened as the answering machine picked up. Maggie never left messages. She detested modern technology.

Silently, Kara promised to call her back later. It felt as if hours had passed, but in fact it was barely noon and she didn’t know what to do with herself. Too much empty time for thinking.

Kara’s thoughts went to Davis. If she picked up the phone, would she be able to reach him? Would he even want to hear from her? Slowly she dialed the familiar number to the VCIRD headquarters and waited. “Good afternoon, VCIRD’s DC Division. How may I direct your call?” the pleasant voice of the receptionist inquired politely.

“Agent Davis Martin, please.” The silence following her request lengthened along with Kara’s fears.

One click, followed by another then another before the receptionist questioned, “May I ask who is calling, please?” It took Kara longer than it should to realize what the clicking noise represented, but when she did, she slammed the receiver down. Idiot! She’d been out of the game far too long. She’d grown rusty. Davis’s ex-wife had just been murdered. Of course they’d monitor his calls for clues.

Kara still stood with the cordless handset in her hand when it rang again, and she feared the worst. Surely not enough time had passed to trace the call. Still, she couldn’t pick up. The answering machine clicked on and her grandmother’s frantic voice came into her living room. “Kara, it’s your grandmother. Kara, if you’re there, pick up. Child, don’t do it. Don’t take the case. Don’t go back to the past with—”

“Gran, I’m here.” Kara answered the call, wanting only to reassure her grandmother. “Don’t take the case. It’s too dangerous for you.” Of course Kara knew what her grandmother meant. After all, they both shared the bond of vision.

“I’m not. I’m not taking the case, Gran.” Kara paused for the moment before asking slowly, “What have you seen?”

“It doesn’t matter.” This meant it had been bad. Whenever her grandmother refused to share something, it was bad.

N.J.: Right now, I’m trying to get through the rest of winter. lol It’s been extremely cold where I live and I can’t wait for spring. The upside is I’m inside more so I’m getting a lot of writing done.

AL: Tell us about a current or upcoming release.

N.J.: Quinn’s Quest is my latest release from Samhain Publishing. It’s part of my Legacy werewolf series and tells the tale of Quinn Lawton, who is searching for his missing sister. The last thing he expects to find, or wants, is a woman who makes him think about all the things that are missing in his life. He can’t allow any attraction to distract him from his hunt. But fate has other ideas.

AL: What other steamy stories are you whipping up for readers?

N.J.: I’ve got two more Legacy books releasing this year and I just submitted another Awakening Desires book to my editor at Ellora’s Cave. Right now, I’m working on an entirely new paranormal series. It’s very different for me and I’m having a blast working on it.

AL: Out of all your stories do you have one that is more near and dear your heart?

N.J.: That is so tough. I love all my books for different reasons. Annabelle Lee is my first published book so that one is special. Discovering Dani was the first book I ever wrote so that book will always hold a place in my heart. The Seduction of Shamus O’Rourke is also a personal favorite, simply because I love Shamus so much. I could go on and on and on…

AL: When you write do you do a detailed outline before you get started or do you have the idea then just 'fly by the seat of your pants'? :-)

N.J.: The characters are the starting point for me. I have to know them before I can start thinking about the story. Once I know who they are (or at least as much as they’re showing me at the moment) I start thinking about their story. I may jot down a few notes, but I’m not a plotter. Once I have the first scene worked out in my head, I start writing. The rest of the story flows from there.

AL: What do you like best about writing? What is your least favorite thing?

N.J.: I love being able to get inside the heads of my characters and experience something totally different from my own life. The creation aspect is quite addicting. I’m not sure there’s anything to dislike, but I find that I spend more time now promoting and doing writer-related things than writing sometimes. It can get frustrating, but it’s part of the job.

AL: It’s time to get personal! St. Patrick’s Day is around the corner. Do you get rip-roarin’ drunk drinking green beer while dressed head to toe in green, or are you lucky to find green in your closet and leave the drinking to others?

N.J.: LOL Hubby is the one with the Irish heritage. He even played in an band for a few years back in the early ‘90s. We’re pretty low-key around our house. If we’re drinking beer, it’s probably at home.

AL: Best movie you've seen recently? I want to see The Vow and have not had the opportunity yet.

N.J.: The best one I’ve seen recently is This Means War. It’s action-packed and funny. A great date movie.

AL: If you were a Superheroine, would you wear tights and a cape?

N.J.: No cape, but probably tights. Those suckers help keep things in place.

AL: If you could meet someone famous in either history, or present day…who would you like to meet and why?

N.J.: I’d love to meet the Dali Lama. I think it would be amazing to sit and talk with him for an afternoon.

AL: Can you share some of your plans for 2012 and beyond?

N.J.: Hubby and I will be celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary this year. Not sure what we’ll be doing yet, but something special. I have no idea where the years have gone. Beyond that, I’ll be writing and enjoying myself as much as possible.

AL: Please share a favorite quote(s) with us.

N.J.: "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." (Lao Tzu)

Kidnapped and held in a crazy doctor’s underground laboratory, Bethany Morris only manages to escape because Chrissten, one of her fellow abductees, creates an opportunity—by shifting into a werewolf.

Bethany’s desperate for help, but who’ll believe her story? The police? That’ll just buy her a one-way ticket to a padded room—because here’s the kicker: she’s discovered she’s a half-breed werewolf. Her only hope is to find Chrissten’s brother.

Quinn Lawton’s long, grinding search for his missing twin has turned up nothing…until Bethany rekindles his hope. Something else catches flame too—her heat cycle and a searing attraction branded with the word mate. Yet with so much blood on his hands, any future he might offer is already tainted beyond redemption.

Desperate for Quinn’s touch alone, Bethany has no choice but to take Quinn up on his offer to quell her terrifying need, no strings attached. And hope that as the search for Chrissten intensifies, the battle with their personal demons doesn’t destroy their razor-thin chance at forever.

Product WarningsThis book contains heartbreak and love found, a crazy scientist and his werewolf flunky and a tortured werewolf hero. Plus lots and lots of steamy hot sex!

Excerpt:

The phone rang twice before it occurred to Bethany that the middle of the night might not be the best time to call anyone asking for help, especially not with the crazy story she had to tell. “Damn.” She thought about hanging up but she was committed now. She tightened her hand around the receiver.

“Yeah.” The voice was male and hoarse with sleep.

She cleared her throat. “Is this Quinn Lawton?” She prayed she’d remembered the number right. She didn’t know what she’d do next if this wasn’t Chrissten’s brother.

There was some rustling in the background and the voice was more alert this time. “No.” Bethany’s heart sunk. Maybe she’d dialed the number wrong. Before she could apologize and hang up, the man was speaking again. “Just give me a second and I’ll get him.”

Hope surged inside her. She hadn’t failed. The phone number was the right one. Her knees threatened to buckle so she sank into the chair that Margaret had vacated. Her stomach felt queasy and she was still very weak. She could still hang up the phone and let the police handle this. All she’d have to do is tell them she was kidnapped. No need to tell them about the rest of it. Quinn Lawton would never be able to find her. There was no way to trace the call back to the shelter.

She clutched the receiver in her hand and took a deep breath, knowing she could never do that. She was committed now. No turning back. Footsteps sounded through the receiver and she knew the man who’d answered was taking the phone to Chrissten’s brother, who was a half-breed werewolf just like Chrissten. Just like she was.

Bethany still couldn’t quite wrap her head around that one, but she was trying to understand it. She hoped Quinn had answers for her.

“Yeah.” The voice was low and gruff and masculine. Every cell in Bethany’s body reacted to the sound. The fine hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Her nipples contracted. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Who is this?” The voice was more demanding now, all trace of sleepiness gone.

Bethany forced herself to speak. “Is this Quinn Lawton?”

“Who wants to know?” She almost hung up on him. His impatience and arrogance bled through the phone line. But she’d promised her friend.

“Do you have a sister named Chrissten?”

“Where is she? Who are you? Where are you?”

Bethany was so startled by the angry outburst she dropped the receiver. She could hear Quinn yelling at her through the line. She grabbed the phone and hung up, panting hard for breath. He was one scary man.

She sat there for about thirty seconds before she grabbed the phone and punched in the number again.

“Hello. Are you there?” he demanded.

“I’m here.” This was for Chrissten, she reminded herself. And for yourself, a little voice in the back of her head said. You want to know more about who you are. What you are.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” His low tones made her shiver and she wasn’t sure she believed him. Even his apology was short. A voice in the background was urging him to stay calm. She recognized it as the man who’d originally answered the phone. She was beginning to wish she’d talked to him instead.

“Umm, I need to talk to you about your sister.” She had to do this face-to-face. This wasn’t something you talked about over the phone. “Where are you?”

“I’m in Chicago. Where are you?”

Bethany was shocked to find out that help was close at hand. She hadn’t expected that, but would take it as a good sign that maybe her luck was changing. “Where in Chicago? I want to meet you.”

“Tell me about my sister.” His frustration was palpable and she almost blurted out everything she knew. But she had to meet him in person. She’d promised Chrissten she’d get help and that meant more than simply making a phone call. Plus, she was curious about him, about what he was. What she was.

“Where shall I meet you?” Bethany could be just as stubborn as he was.

“There’s a bar in Wicker Park. It’s called Haven. Meet me there.”

“When?” Bethany glanced at the clock over Margaret’s desk. It was half past four in the morning.

“Now. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“I don’t have any money to pay for a cab.” It was demoralizing to admit she needed him to pay for her to get there. She couldn’t walk, as she had no idea where she was going. Even if she wanted to take public transit she still had no idea where to find this particular bar.

“Just get here. I’ll take care of the cab fare.”

She sucked in a breath and said, “Okay,” as she exhaled. The quicker she did this the better for her peace of mind.

“What’s your name?” The urgency in his tone brought home just how desperate he was for news of his sister.

“Bethany. My name is Bethany. As of less than a day ago your sister was alive. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Tina: It’s getting really beautiful in Palm Springs where I live. Not that it isn’t always beautiful, but instead of 60 degree days, we’re now having 75 and up. Wow. The mountains are covered with snow and the valley – where I live – has these soft, caressing breezes scented with flowers. Paradise.

AL: Tell us about a current or upcoming release.

Tina: The Yearning, my first paranormal and my first title with Samhain has just come out in print – March 6, to be exact. It’s been a Top Ten Bestseller at Samhain and received so many wonderful reviews, including being nominated for Book of the Week at Whipped Cream Reviews (LASR).

AL: What other works are you deep into?

Tina: I’m about to go into edits for Illicit Desire, Book Two of my Outlawed Realm series (paranormal). Outlawed Realm is my first series, BTW. Illicit Desire is set to be pubbed in September. Unending Desire, Book One, just received the Best Book rating at LASR erotic.

AL: Who is the author(s) that inspired you to write?

Tina: Wow. There were so many. I was reading Dickens in the fourth grade. I love the work of Lawrence Sanders, Dean Koontz, Hilma Wolitzer, Sol Stein, Kathleen Woodiwiss and too many others to mention.

AL: Of your books, whose your favorite hero and heroine?

Tina: Hmmm. I’ve had many erotic contemporary romances pubbed by Ellora’s Cave. Two of my favs are Sensual Stranger, which was named Book of the Year at Blue Moon Reviews. Toni and Zach made me laugh, cry, sigh, you name it. Another of my works for EC, In His Arms, is probably my most dramatic, exploring white slavery. RJ’s love for Summer stole my breath. Even after reading it countless times, I still cry at the end. They moved me that much.

AL: Have you ever wanted to write your book in one direction but your characters wanted to go in another direction. What did you do in such a situation?

Tina: Actually yes. When I was plotting SiNN, my most recent Ellora’s Cave release, I at first thought it would be a one man-one woman plot between Jake and Lea. But then, Toby, Jake’s partner in the US Marshals Service kept barging into my thoughts. It led to my first ever ménage and lots of new fans.

AL: It’s time to get personal! Do you have a favorite sport, &/or team that you follow?

Tina: I confess, sports aren’t my fav thing. I do like figure skating and watch it during the Olympics.

AL: Can you describe yourself in 3 sentences or less?

Tina: How about three words? Passionate. Persistent. Irreverent.

AL: If you weren't writing, what do you suppose you'd be doing?

Tina: OMG, I can’t imagine myself not writing. Honestly, it’s like oxygen to me. I come alive when I’m with my characters. No matter how cruddy my day has been, they make it all worthwhile.

AL: Where would you like to travel if you had the chance?

Tina: Spain, especially Andalusia. One of my earliest romances was Just One Kiss that took place there in the 1400’s. I had to do a lot of research and I simply fell in love with the country.

AL: Can you share some of your plans for 2012 and beyond?

Tina: I just contracted Sinfully Wicked, my next ménage, with Ellora’s Cave and received the edits the other day. I’m finishing up my next paranormal, which is also the beginning of a new series for me. And, once I’m through with it, I have another idea for an erotic contemporary. In between all of that, you’ll find me at Macy’s shopping their many sales!

AL: Please share a favorite quote(s) with us.

Tina: Years ago, I read this quote - if I’m remembering correctly, it was by Sidney Sheldon on writing: “You think it, you feel it, you see it, and then you write it.” So true.

Jasmine Dante prowls Key West’s nightlife, fighting a losing battle against a jealous rival’s curse that forces her to seek carnal pleasure, no matter the danger. Weakened from lack of sleep, driven by insatiable lust, she spots a man who stirs her desperate craving, and begins yet another dance of seduction.

Except the dark stranger who returns her direct stare is no ordinary lover. Inside his powerful body lies a raw sexuality that just might be enough to break her curse. There’s only one way to find out: imprison him in her bed and feed on his passion.

Former U.S. Marshal Mike Stearn is many things, but he’s no woman’s sex slave. The deadly telekinetic power he ruthlessly suppresses comes alive again at Jasmine’s touch. Beneath her bold, potent sensuality he senses vulnerability and desperation. He may be in handcuffs, but she’s the one who’s enslaved.

As Mike resurrects his power to free himself so he can find the curse’s source and defeat it, Jasmine revels in his masterful rule. Her ravenous yearning evolves into rapture as she surrenders to his hunger, her darkest needs—and the emotional connection that lies beyond. Unless the curse takes her life first…

Warning: Tons of steamy sex, smoldering passion and a to-die-for love story with a hot Alpha hero who finds himself imprisoned by one sultry and desperate babe.

Excerpt:

You will want as I want. You will know insatiable lust, but no peace.

—Desiree Zazou

Despite the danger, unending desire drove Jasmine Dante through the Blue Bliss Club, a hangout for locals in Key West. Slow-dancing couples clung to each other in the intimate atmosphere. Turquoise lighting gave the place a dreamy underwater feel, while tiny azure bulbs sparkled like Christmas decorations on the palms flanking the bar.

A man Jasmine had just noticed sat on the last stool. No more than mid-thirties, he wore his long, black hair tied back. Sharp, masculine features, dark eyes and a coppery complexion revealed his Native American heritage. Unlike many of the other men, he didn’t wear the ubiquitous flowered shirt, shorts and flip-flops. Black mocs hugged his large feet. Jeans and a T-shirt the color of midnight clothed his lean, muscular frame. Beneath his right sleeve, she spotted a bold tattoo of what looked to be an eagle.

She pictured her mouth on the strong design, her tongue roaming his slightly salty flesh, her fingers travelling over his hard abdominal muscles and beneath his jeans’ waistband, seeking the thick, fragrant curls below. Unendurable yearning sliced through her, quickening her heart. She moved closer.

His attention didn’t stray from tonight’s band, a new group named Engaged. Their R&B throbbed soulfully, evoking the seductive richness of Alicia Keys, Jennifer Hudson and Toni Braxton. The lead singer, a slight young woman with heartache in her eyes, seemed to perform solely for him.

Were they together? Was he waiting for her set to end? Panic flared, pushing Jasmine to do something. What? her mind cried. Fight another woman over a man she didn’t know? Months ago, she would have found the notion ludicrous and daunting. Since crossing paths with Desiree Zazou, everything paled beneath Jasmine’s consuming lust.

The woman’s mocking voice echoed in her mind: “You will want as I want.”

A bead of sweat slithered from Jasmine’s temple to her cheek, intensifying the fragile, dewy scent she wore. Her steps slowed as she regarded the singer.

The girl dipped her head in a gesture of farewell to the man, then sang with equal passion to another guy who leaned against the satiny blue wall.

She’s playing to her audience, Jasmine thought, it’s a part of her act. She probably doesn’t even know him. Though relieved, she remained shaky inside and stopped at the end of the dance floor.

Someone bumped into her. She stepped aside and froze as a young redhead in a scarlet Band-Aid dress tottered toward the man, her gait unsteady from drugs or too many drinks. He noted her blurry smile and offered a guarded expression in return. Twisting her hair and holding it back with one hand, the redhead pressed close, her ample breasts snuggled into his sculpted biceps, her mouth to his ear. Whatever she said made his dark brows lift.

Heart pounding, Jasmine glanced over and captured the server’s wrist as the twenty-something girl—Sara, by her nametag—tried to move past. Jasmine kept her voice raised just enough so the music and singer wouldn’t drown her out. “See that man at the bar on the last stool?”

Server Sara put her voice at the same pitch. “You kidding? Me and about a dozen other women got him in our sights, including the one who’s with him now. You thinking about sending him a drink?”

“Whatever he’s having.” Afraid to use a credit card the police could trace back to her if anyone reported him missing, she took a twenty out of her evening bag.

The bill went into the front pocket of Sara’s cobalt blue apron. “What’s your name? So I can tell him.”

No. She couldn’t chance the girl putting any name to her face. “Have the bartender point me out. And keep the change. Please.”

“You got it.” With a savvy wink, Server Sara turned and wove through the crowd.

One of the bouncers, an older guy with a shaved head and goatee, watched the redhead as she clung to the man and continued to speak. Jasmine saw the building annoyance in the man’s twilight eyes. Before he had to do anything about it, a trio of giggling young women joined the redhead. All wore skimpy, skin-tight dresses in a rainbow of shades: bright yellow, grass green, purple as deep as a bruise. They tried to coax their friend back to the dance floor.

She flung out her hand to shoo them away. The bouncer stepped forward and said something the young woman didn’t like. Head whipped to the side, she gave him a frown. A tense moment passed during which the other girls convinced her to leave.

Jasmine feared the man would do the same, fed up with aggressive females. What would she do then? Follow him outside and pretend she wanted to know the time? Ask for directions to another bar, maybe one on touristy Duval Street? Invite him to join her? And if he didn’t, would she be able to find someone else to ease her ravenous yearning or would he stay in her blood the entire time, making her lust even worse?

Seconds crept by. The air hissed with uncertainty.

He settled back on his stool, absorbed by the smooth tenor sax and the songstress’s smoky vocals.

Jasmine remembered to breathe. Closing her eyes briefly, she wondered if he was a musician, given his interest in the band. He certainly seemed to be a gentleman, considering his restraint with the redhead. However, this was a public place. What would he do when he thought they were alone? Travis, the last man she chose, would have harmed her, if not for her sisters’ intervention.

Recalling that night, her insides rolled, though it didn’t stop her. She watched the female bartender accept her twenty. To the left, Jasmine’s younger sisters, Violet and Lily, sat at a corner table, their apprehension palpable. When she made eye contact with Lily, her youngest sibling rose to join her. Violet grabbed Lily’s arm, a reminder to sit. Worried they might argue and ruin everything, Jasmine shook her head, warning them not to be obvious. To the casual observer and especially to the man, they shouldn’t appear to know each other. Thankfully, they didn’t look like sisters. Violet, with her light brown hair, hazel eyes and pale complexion, resembled their late mom. So did Lily, even though she’d dyed her brown hair platinum and wore it in a close-cropped boyish style. Jasmine, on the other hand, had her late dad’s olive coloring, dark brown hair and blue-green eyes.

Violet inclined her head toward the man. Jasmine looked. The bartender had already slid a bottle of Dos Equis to him. They exchanged comments, and then the woman lifted a slender forefinger and pointed to Jasmine.

He turned.

Heat surged to Jasmine’s cheeks. Crushing need prevented her from taking a full breath.

In his hooded eyes, she saw fulfillment, no matter how fleeting…his confining weight trapping her, the ends of his untied hair skimming her bare shoulders, his mouth hard and ruthless. A virile male she wouldn’t have dared approach before Desiree changed her destiny, falsely accusing her of taking Connor Rolands, the man Desiree wanted.

Now, the curse drew Jasmine to this man as the road to Hell seduces a born sinner. She walked in time to the music’s sensual beats. Inwardly, a part of her cowered. For him and what would soon come, she offered a welcoming smile.

REMEMBER: Tina will be offering a contest. She’ll offer one commenter (chosen at random), her (or his) choice of one of my backlist ebooks. Pick from one of those listed above. Good luck!

CONTEST: One lucky commenter will be chosen on Thursday, Nov. 10th to receive a copy of Serena's recent release, A Magical Return. Good luck!

AL: Hi Serena! Welcome to Blog Bites.

Serena: Hi Ann! Thanks so much for having me here for the next few days, I can’t wait to check the place out…you know peek around corners, meander down forbidden hallways, burst through closed doors. I’ve read your Eternal Series, so I just know there must be some sexy vamps here somewhere… ~wink~

AL: Naughty girl, but true...I'm sure you'll find a vamp or two in a shadowed corner waiting to nibble on someone. So, tell us what’s happening with you.

Serena: Well, the hubby and I just celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary this year…and I’m happy to report that we both looked at each other that morning and said, “lookin’ good, how about another 15?” My eleven year old, Darling Diva, has decided that rather than a jewelry designer, she would like to be an actor/singer (Man those were the days, weren’t they? Every kiddo must want to perform at one point…I sure did.) And I am, hopefully, going to be rid of my yearly bout of bronchitis. Yep, a writers dream…let’s write some sex today, hack, cough, hack. LOL

AL: Tell us about a current or upcoming release.

Serena: My current release is entitled A Magical Return. It’s a story of somewhat human lovers, who have an affinity to the elements and a special ability to carry inside themselves another being. An Other, or a magical essence, here to help protect humans from evil.

Unfortunately, as is the case in romance, all hell breaks loose (literally) and tears our couple apart. But, as the title implies, they get a second chance at love; if they can get over all the bumps in the magical road home.

AL: Sounds like another great read. You know this reader will be checking it out. What other works are you deep into?

Serena: Well, right now I’m nearly finished with my second Jaguar shifter story, The Submission. This time it’s all about Marina’s (heroine from The Challenge) sister LeAnn and her mate’s, Rick and Trent. I had originally thought to have The Submission out quite a while ago, but the characters threw me for a loop the first time I was close to the end. I found myself dismantling the entire story and starting over… Frustrating, for sure, but the characters are always right though, and now the story is that much better.

AL: I have a couple that's like that. You've me them. Christian and Alynn. Who is the author(s) that inspired you to write?

Serena: Wow, you know, I have so many authors I just love to read and find inspiring so it’s hard to pick just one. I will say that while I’ve always had the writing bug, it was my first paranormal romance that made me say, “Oh yeah, I am so going to do this one day.” And the author I was reading at the time…Christine Feehan.

AL: Of your books, whose your favorite hero and heroine?

Serena: Gasp, but I love all my characters!! Currently, though, it is not a character from one of my published works or WIP who I find the most fun to scribe for. I’ve been writing flashes on my group blog Shapeshifter Seductions http://shapeshifterseductions.blogspot.com/ that take place in a fictitious town by the name of Talbot’s Peak. This is a wicked fun town, with a cast of characters as long as my…leg. ~wink~

My favorite to write about is Ziva and Nick. Alpha werewolves who put out the town paper and still find time to torment each other.

AL: Have you ever wanted to write your book in one direction but your characters wanted to go in another direction. What did you do in such a situation?

Serena: All the free-wheeling time! LOL I swear I must have the mouthiest, and orneriest, characters around. All the time with what they want and how they want it, never mind what the actual author wants to do… BUT ~I have to whisper this so as to keep the hooting and hollering inside my poor brain to a minimum~ much the same as good customer service, the character is always right. Yep, I said it; I let my characters get away with anything and everything they want, because in the end, they are always right.

AL: It’s time to get personal! Do you have a favorite sport, &/or team that you follow?

Serena: Oh my, when you said personal I thought for sure we were gonna talk sex! Ooooh wait, can we include sex as a sport?? No…Okay, but, what if… No again… You’re killing me here, Ann ~wink~

Now, where was I? Oh yes, sports. See, I’m not much for sports, unless we’re talking the Olympics. Baseball, Football, Hockey…I can take them or leave them, but The Olympics are a must watch for me. Summer or winter, doesn’t matter I like them equally. In the summer I can watch them swim and dive, in the winter bobsledding and skeleton. How awesome is that!

AL: Come on, Serena. A man in a football uniform. Now that's a sexy-sport on a stick. Yum! All those hits, and running and more hits, all that male verility on display. Wait....fanning myself. Now, can you describe yourself in 3 sentences or less?

Serena: How about 3 words…Sexy, Sassy and Sensual!

AL: If you weren't writing, what do you suppose you'd be doing?

Serena: Beating back the voices in my head! And probably working an office job where I’d drink too much coffee and gossip incessantly! So, for the safety of others, I’d best continue to write. Heh heh

AL: Where would you like to travel if you had the chance?

Serena: Everywhere! I was bitten by the travel bug at a young age and the need to see everything has yet to wear off. I would love to take to my car, with my hubby and Darling Diva, and see every one of the states in this here country…top to bottom, side to side and with a slow boat to Hawaii at the end. When it’s all over…we’d be off to Europe!

AL: Can you share some of your plans for 2012 and beyond?

Serena: Writing, writing and more writing! I have such a back log of idea that need to be written and new ones jumping in everyday, that I could be busy for the rest of my days! I’ve also given some thought to getting my toes wet in the indie publishing market with a few of my Talbot’s Peak shorts, but I’m still trying to decide on that end.

AL: Please share a favorite quote(s) with us.

Serena: Here are a couple of my favorites. Wise words I try to remember every day.

The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience. ~Eleanor Roosevelt

You can’t have a light without a dark to stick it in. ~Arlo Guthrie

And lastly, the quote that speaks to the reader, the writer and the dreamer in me…

If you are a dreamer, come in. If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar, a hoper, a prayer, a magic-bean-buyer. If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire, for we have some flax-golden tales to spin. Come in! Come in! ~Shel Silverstein

AL: Thanks so much for sharing with us, Serena.

Serena: Thanks for having me here, Ann! I always feel so incredibly welcomed in your lovely writer’s cave. Plus, this time I found the room you keep your naughty night dwellers in, so I may never leave! ~wink~

AL: Have fun, Serena! If you’d like to find out more about Serena please visit:

Conleth “Cole” Douglas, warlock and vessel, needs a miracle. A destructive force has taken hold of his town and it will take more than just he and his magical Other, Cole, to eradicate the Evil. When an attempt to open his lover, Emterra, to their shared destiny fails, Conleth and Cole take extreme measures to stop the rising darkness. Their only option: take it, and themselves, into another realm.

Emterra “Irene” Azzurra, untapped witch and vessel, has given up on finding her own happy-ever-after. Devastated by the loss of her one and only love she becomes disinterested and remote, closed off from a life without Conleth. Even her job as the mayor of the dying town of Douglasville, MO, fails to sustain her, until she gets a blast from the past…

The Return

He’s back, alive and whole, but he didn’t come alone. The evil they’d hoped to contain in a distant realm has returned with him and is out to finish the job it started. There can be no failure this time, the now middle-aged, Emterra must accept her Other or doom the town to an agonizing death.

Skeptical of his sudden homecoming, Emterra is afraid to hope that his return could be true. She balks at the idea of opening her heart to him again. Especially when he looks like the same young Goth from ten years ago and tries to convince her she’s sharing skin with a magical being.

Can Conleth prove his claims of magic and the Others to be true? Can Emterra allow herself to believe in love and his wild claims? Or will the returning Evil finally swallow this town and all its inhabitants into the deepest realms of hell.

Excerpt:

April 1st, 10 years ago

Northern Missouri, outside of Douglasville, in a barren tobacco field

Giant plumes of fire shot into the air, bracketing both the stage and Conleth ‘Cole’ Douglas within their heated embrace. The pyrotechnic display filled the night sky with showers of crackling flames.

An unknown force had let loose a demon within the town of Douglasville. Malevolent was too nice a word for this beast. This evil was a promise maker, a soul sucker, a bloody life taker, and now it was Conleth’s job to send it back to Hell. The only problem—he wasn’t nearly strong enough on his own. For this, he needed Em.

Emterra Azzurra was many things to him, his friend and lover, his soul mate—but right now what he needed the most was the thing inside her. Deep within the body, he knew quite intimately, was a being of magic, a source of goodness, an Other—one who had the ability to work with his own Other to defeat the evil bearing down on them now.

Together Conleth and his Other called the wind and summoned the earth. The task put a strain on their waning energy, as neither power was theirs to wield. Yet, they could only hope there was enough force to release Emterra’s powers, link her to the earth and air around them, and free her Other.

Magic spiraled through the crowd, seeping into pores and burrowing under skin, looking for its host, looking for Emterra. She was here. He could feel her; his Other had scented her life force as she’d entered the field of battle.

Con knew Emterra had the power to control the wind and a body to embrace the being she carried inside. With practice, she would hone the skill to become truly powerful, a force to be reckoned with, but time was an indulgence neither could afford. He had to encourage her to try, right here and right now. A gentle introduction to her new life was something he could not give her this time as he had in the past.

He prayed she would forgive him.

“Em,” he whispered inside her head. Her thoughts were a confused jumble of fears and questions. She didn’t yet believe in psychic links as Conleth did, but this was the only way he could find her in the mass of humanity about to be used as food.

“How can I…in my head…Con.” Her emotions were scattered, but in her newly cop-like way, she’d locked them deep down inside. “What are you doing?”

“Something good, my love, nothing that can hurt you.” He hoped. “But I need you to trust me.”

He flashed a vision of them into her mind, taking her to a past where they soared into the eclectic world of musical freedoms and expressions, while around them, drugs and liquor flowed freely. Amid the rabid throng, they too screamed and beat their hands in the air to the squeal of the electric guitar and each bang on the skins of the drum.

“Don’t, please don’t make me remember this, Con.”

Her mental plea broke his heart. A heart that had always and would always beat for her and her alone. Unfortunately, his love and devotion to her were not enough to keep him from what he had to do, no matter how painful it may be.

“I’m sorry, my love, but you must remember. I need, no—we—need you to remember.”.

He sent her another vision. This time it was a memory of those magically successful moments when she had relaxed and let go enough for her Other to come close. She stood in the past, her hands high above her head as he’d cupped her breasts from behind. They swayed to the ballad screeching from the massive speakers. Nipples hardened to painful points between his fingers and thumbs as he squeezed them. He held her tight as she shook, he knew, from the shocking power filling her body.

“Say it, Em,” he’d whispered. “Say the words.”

“Vicis congelo,” she screamed into the sky above them. The Latin words for ‘time freeze’ rang clearly through the air.

Everything slowed. The band, being further away from them, moved as if they were stuck in a muddy bog, starting and stopping, their sounds low and slurred. The fans surrounding them, however, froze in pre-and post-head-banging modes. They stood amidst the previous chaos, enthralled by the strength of this new gift.

“No!”

A steel door ended the vision with a finality that worried him. They were back in the present, with evil all around them, and again she squashed the emotions and thoughts inside her. “Em, please…”

“No Con, that vision is nothing more than a drug-induced nightmare of a time best forgotten. It wasn’t real…”

Conleth’s Other began demanding release. “It was very real, Em, and what you did then, controlling time, is what we need now.”

“Stop it, Con, just stop this. The time for foolish pranks and pretending to be magical are over—it’s time to grow up!”

Goddess, he thought as he was pushed back into the background of his mind, exchanging consciousness with his Other—they were screwed.

*

Yep, clearly, Emterra had taken too many hits, swallows, and pills that crazy night, but youthful stupidity in the past did not explain the weirdness of tonight. First up on the loony list, Con “speaking” to her, inside her own head. That was just not possible, right…

“It has to be a drug flashback or a bad trip.” Of course, she no longer took the short road to psychedelic bliss. Self-preservation and a career in law enforcement had curtailed that activity long ago. What was it then, did she just long to hear Con’s voice in her head? Did she miss their youthful hijinx enough to imagine the gothy, witchy phase was real?

“Am I going crazy?” If talking to one’s self and hearing voices was any indication, she’d jumped on the crazy train the moment she stepped foot on this barren tobacco field.

Hordes of people writhed under the oppressive heat of the flames bursting into the air on stage. The energy was similar to what it had been like at the concerts of her youth, yet the mood was vastly different. The power, drawn from every soul she passed, beat at her with excitement, arousal, and agony. She yearned for more of their pain, but cringed at the cruelty inside her. These people were hurting and she was enjoying it on some level.

Tonight, she didn’t even have mind-altering drugs to blame.

Bodies writhed in the dirt of the farm field, screaming for release. Children sobbed next to adults who begged for it to be over. Wisps of red smoke swept over the crowd, a bloody evil probing for a way inside each soul it passed.

The leader of this invisible raping, pillaging mess of hellish torment, it seemed, was Conleth. Arms lifted skyward, he chanted words she’d never heard before, sounds that pulled at her. His words fed life into the columns of fire beside him. Higher they climbed, releasing the bloody red wisps, or possibly pulling them back in—she couldn’t tell. Her heart beat faster, pounding to the rhythm of his words. She had to get to him, stop him before it was too late.

She ran full out, palming her Taser as she made a beeline toward the man she loved. Electrified air charged the hair flying around her face. She never faltered; it was as if she were running on the wind.

“Conleth, stop,” she screamed at him from the dirt in front of the stage. “Please.”

“Malum phasmatis, reverto volo.”

Emma shook. He was speaking in Latin, and again she understood. ‘Evil spirits, return to me’. Oh Con, what have you done?

“Conleth Cole Douglas, cease and desist. Now!” She used her best cop voice in an attempt to take control of the situation, though she had no idea what the situation was. This night was to have been a magic show to support the families hit hardest by last season’s crop failures. The invite extended to the entire town with a request that everyone dig deep and give what they could—food, time, money. Anything would help.

Rumor had it, Martin and Wilhemina Douglas sponsored this worthy cause; but suspiciously, their son Conleth had been the only one to show. He’d promised big name magicians, bands, as well as a plethora of rich and famous people, ready to lend a financial helping hand.

Again, Con was the only one here. He was looking guiltier by the second, but of what? Mass hypnosis? Con was a master at hypnotism, but more one-on-one than a crowd this big. One look at the Labradorite stone he wore around his neck and she was a goner. The grayish-blue gem, with its green and blue flashes could pull her under in less time than it took an arsonist to flick his bic.

But that was one small gem; there were hundreds if not thousands of people gathered in this field. No way was he putting all these folks under, unless it was really the chanting doing the work.

Still he went on. “Malum phasmatis, reverto volo.” Over and over again, but that didn’t make sense. How could ‘evil spirits, return to me’ be used as a focus?

“Ut is est, sic vadum is exsisto.” A Latin phrase forced its way past her lips, ‘as it is, so shall it be’. The words seemed random to her, but to Con, they appeared to make sense. His head turned to her and the blood red eyes staring back at her climbed inside her skin and stilled her heart.

“Emterra Irene Azzurra, finish it,” the man she loved said in a voice not his own. “Please.”

“Con, get down. Now!”

“Finish it!” He screeched into the night sky.

“NO!”

“Finish it!”

“I can’t, I don’t know what you mean.” Fear seeped under Emma’s skin while bugs skittered around her brain. The pain was unbearable.

Tendrils of fire weaved through her body, meeting the air pushing its way in through her pores. A bright star burst to life beneath her skin. The light was more brilliant and loving than anything she’d felt in her entire life. The presence filled her, touching every lonely spot inside her with calm and well-being. There was safety within the light, protection. Yet she struggled to get away from the nexus of peace.

As quickly as it had come, the presence departed—torn from her with the subtlety of a rusty axe. The pain of it dropped Emma to her knees. She writhed upon the ground with fellow town members, praying for death, wondering how and why Con would do this.

Briefly, Latin words whispered through her brain, perfectus, per meus mos– ‘finished, by my will’, but the pain swept the words away, leaving only Conleth’s voice to fill the void in that dying field with a Latin rhyme.

“Per meus mos–‘By my will’, may this adnihilo, ‘demon’, return to me, cling to me. Take me, leave them be. Alive, but ten years more before we settle thy wicked score. Per meus mos,” he screamed, before disappearing in a flash of flame, miles high.

The blessed darkness overtook her.

REMEMBER: One lucky commenter will be chosen on Thursday, Nov. 10th to receive a copy of Serena's recent release, A Magical Return. Good luck!

CONTEST: Silvia will give away one download copy of Seduction of the Captain. How do you enter for a chance to win? Simply leave a comment for Silvia. Best wishes!

AL: Hi Silvia! Welcome to Blog Bites.

Silvia: Thanks for having me here, Ann.

AL: So, tell us what’s happening with you.

Silvia: I’m enjoying soaking up summer – going to the pool with my kids, wading in creeks, taking hikes, and spending several long weekends to visit friends

AL: Tell us about a current or upcoming release.

Silvia: My most recent release is Seduction of the Captain, a BDSM sci fi story set on a mercenary ship. I enjoyed examining the power dynamics of my characters’ relationship. Kajinek is a Dominant pilot must who follow his Captain’s commands when he’s on the bridge, but when they’re in private, she submits to him.

AL: What other works are you deep into?

Silvia: I’m working on two m/m stories now, one is sci fi story featuring intergalactic spies and the other is set on an underwater research station.

AL: How do you decide upon your settings? What about the names of characters? Do you ever change either mid-stream into a story?

Silvia: I typically meet my characters first and they give me the setting but sometimes they are reluctant to reveal their names. I have changed a characters name after getting a few chapters into the story and getting to know the character better.

AL: Do you ever have certain music you listen to when you write? Does it vary from book to book?

Silvia: I often write in silence (or the closest thing to it in a house with little kids). But when I write the steamier scenes I often listen to dance music like Pitbull, Flo Rida, or Enrique. Occasionally a song will seem perfect for the feel of a story. One of the characters in the sci fi story I’m working on now has chosen Shontelle’s Impossible as his theme song.

AL: You write submissive/dominate story lines. How do you when you know when you’ve crossed the line between romance/erotica to something else all together?

Silvia: My stories range from light play with power dynamics (the hero holding the heroines hands down while they have sex) to BDSM books where the interactions between the characters gets very intense (literal whips and chains). In these more intense stories, I spend some time examining the psychology of dominance and submission, but to me they are all still romance/erotica stories because they focus on the developing relationship between the characters. The BDSM scenes advance and deepen the characters relationship and by the end they have fallen in love with each other.

AL: It’s time to get personal! What is your favorite coffee drink?

Silvia: a local coffee shop has a drink called a Mayan Mocha – it has cayenne and cinnamon in it and is delightfully spicy and oh so good

AL: What annoys you enough to be considered a pet peeve?

Silvia: People who expect you to do all the work on a “group” project

AL: You are the heroine and you have the hero(s) on the island in the middle of your kitchen. What food would you be feeding…nibbling off each other?

Silvia: chocolate frosting and bacon

AL: Here it is: Torchwood or Doctor Who? Does it upset you as much as it did the hubby and I when they stopped Torchwood so early in its series? Or could you care less – just give you more John eye-candy? 

Silvia: Torchwood. I can’t get enough of Captain Jack. I would watch endless episodes of Torchwood, and I wish I had Starz so I could watch Miracle Day without having to wait until it’s available streaming. In the meantime, I’ll take all the John eye candy I can get. :-)

AL: What do you hope for your writing career in the next few years? Any goals that you have yet to obtain that you have set for yourself?

Silvia: My muse is leading me to explore the m/m genre right now. I’d like to find homes for the m/m stories I’m working on now. I took a long hiatus from publishing and I’m still getting back in the swing of things. My primary goals now are to continue to push myself to write daily and to get my name out to readers.

AL: Please share a favorite quote(s) with us.

Silvia: Permanence, perseverance and persistence in spite of all obstacles, discouragements, and impossibilities: It is this, that in all things distinguishes the strong soul from the weak. -Thomas Carlyle

Kajinek is a Lalatian Dominant who must feed on fear, pain, and sex for survival. Since leaving his homeworld, he hasn’t met a woman who could truly satisfy his needs.

Mercenary captain Saida Alexander needs a pilot for the most dangerous mission she’s ever undertaken. She chooses Kajinek, because he’s reputed to be the very best. She never suspects that he’ll awaken the submissive desires she’s ignored for years.

When Saida knocks on Kajinek’s door, he senses that she’s the partner he’s been looking for. He agrees to fly her ship under one condition; she must personally feed his darkest desires. Can Saida give in to what her body wants or will submitting sexually shatter the careful control she wields over the rest of her life?

Excerpt:

Kaj opened the door of his resort-class suite and nearly stumbled as a heady female scent hit him with tangible force. He’d yet to probe the mind of the woman who’d interrupted his quiet afternoon, but her submissive needs screamed at him, begging him to take notice. His cock hardened instantly.

Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a braid that reached her waist. He fought the urge wrap it around his hand and crush her against him. Her skintight flight suit left little of her body to his imagination. Her muscles tensed under his gaze, and her green-gold eyes studied him suspiciously. She reminded him of a feline preparing to spring. He could smell her desire. Apparently he was affecting her as much as she affected him.

“Kajinek of Lalatia?”

He nodded, not sure he could keep the predatory growl out of his voice.

“I’m Captain Saida Alexander of the Allied Mercenary Corporation ship the Ascendant. I’ve come to offer you a job.”

Kaj smiled. He’d heard of Captain Alexander. She was well respected as a hard-ass leader who always accomplished her mission objective. For a captain of her standing to show up unannounced at his personal quarters, she must be desperate for his help. This must be his lucky day. “Do come in.”

He pressed at the edges of her impressive mental shields and gleaned just enough information to confirm what was already clear to him. While he doubted anyone else realized it, Captain Alexander longed to find a man strong enough to dominate her. She was desperate for the release she could never find with a partner who refused to test the limits of her strong will.

He’d not met a woman this compatible for his needs since leaving Lalatia. And he wasn’t about to let her get away. Before this day ended, she would be his.

“Have a seat, Captain.” He gestured toward the plush chairs in the small seating area near the window, which overlooked the station garden. “I’ll order us some refreshments.”

The sexy captain moved through his quarters with silent, controlled grace. He suppressed a shudder of anticipation as he imagined how she would move under him as he thrust deep in her body. If he didn’t watch it, he wasn’t going to be able to focus on the business at hand. He’d take whatever job she was offering, but he doubted she’d like his terms.

He knew his smile must be particularly predatory when her eyes widened. By Varin, she was going to be a feast. “Would you like some coffee?”

She still looked wary, but now he saw a hint of a smile. “Real, honest-to-God coffee?”

He laughed. “Of course.”

“Yes, please.”

He walked to his comm unit and pressed down the button that connected him with the resort concierge. “Please send up coffee and an assortment of pastries immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

Captain Alexander smiled, briefly losing her controlled exterior and looking almost girlish. “You needn’t go to the trouble, but I do appreciate it. I haven’t tasted real coffee in months.”

Her joy at this simple gesture stirred something in him even stronger and more potent than lust. Hearing her cry out his name as he whipped her ass would be delicious. But satisfying her enough to bring that smile to her face might feed something more than physical hunger in him. The thought unnerved him but made him no less determined to have her.

He sat in the chair facing hers. “So you’re in need of a pilot?”

The captain nodded. “The last pilot I hired proved unsatisfactory. We have a job in three days. I’d like you in the pilot’s chair.”

“What is this job?” His sensitive ears heard her pulse accelerate. What was she up to?

“We will act as escort for three ships intent on sailing through the Rebel-controlled sector of Quadrant 16. They’ll appear to be private cargo ships, but they’ll be manned by Imperial Intelligence agents.”

Kaj snarled. “I don’t do Imperial jobs.”

Captain Alexander arched a brow and held his gaze. The delicious smell of her fear belied her confidence. “I’ve heard you’ll take any job as long as the price is right.”

He gestured at the opulent room. “Does it look like I’m in need of work?”

“Lovely as all this is, you don’t strike me as a man who likes to sit on his ass. I think you need to fly. I think you need the rush of danger.”

He smiled, knowing she could see the swirl of orange and yellow flames in his eyes, a sure sign of a Lalatian’s anger or lust. “I do enjoy a thrill, but I can get that right here. You seem like a rather dangerous woman.”

Anger flashed in her eyes. The scent of fear deepened.

The doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of coffee. Kaj was thankful for the distraction. His cock was harder than a steel rod, and he was close to pinning Captain Alexander to the wall and taking exactly what he wanted. His lack of control was appalling, but she was doing things to his libido that made him feel like a boy with his first trainer.

He took the tray from the delivery bot and poured coffee for the captain. As he handed her the mug, he let his fingers brush hers. He was rewarded by her sharp intake of breath.

The contact distracted her, and he felt her fear ease, supplanted in part by lust. He couldn’t help but smile as he sat down, taking a sip of the delicious, strong coffee he’d grown addicted to. “What’s Allied Merc doing working for the empire?”

She stared at him, her face revealing nothing of the emotions he could smell swirling around her. “Making money.”

He arched a brow. Something felt off. He tasted apprehension, and he was certain she wasn’t a woman to be unnerved easily. She would never have been made captain otherwise.

“We have no allegiance. We go where the money is. They want the best, and they’re willing to pay for it.”

Allied Merc might not owe anyone allegiance, but he damn well bet Captain Alexander did, and it wouldn’t be the empire. “Why?”

The captain shrugged. “That information is classified. But whatever will be on those ships is worth a hell of a lot to them.”

Kaj shook his head. “You can’t expect me to believe you’re guarding a ship without any idea what’s on board.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you believe as long as you do your job.” She handed him a nano tablet. “This contract should answer further questions. If you would like to contact me after you’ve had a chance to peruse it, I --”

“No. Stay. I would rather settle our business now.” He sensed that she was disturbed by the lust he stirred in her. No way in hell was he going to let her run away.

He read through the details of the contract, impressed by the sum she was offering him and more than satisfied with the level of responsibility he would have in the pilot’s chair. Now it was time to see how she would react to what he really wanted.

He passed the contract back to her. “A nice offer, but there’s only one thing that would tempt me to take an Imperial job.”

Captain Alexander raised her brow. “What might that be?”

“First, tell me what you know of my people.”

“Lalatians are born dominant or submissive, and you must feed on the energy of others.”

He nodded. “As a dominant, I feed on fear and pain and sex.” He paused a moment to drink in the torrent of lust and unease pouring off her. “Are you prepared to feed me?”

REMEMBER: Silvia will give away one download copy of Seduction of the Captain. How do you enter for a chance to win? Simply leave a comment for Silvia. Best wishes!